Golden
by RichelleBrinkley
Summary: There is no mistletoe above their heads, but he kisses her anyway. Christmas one-shot.


**Title: **Golden

**Author: **RichelleBrinkley

**Word Count: **2,202

**Rating:** T, for mentions of underage drinking.

**AN: **This is a little Gee/Dave Christmas one-shot for you guys. Clearly I wrote this because I wanted to and not at all because I need to get myself back in your good books again after writing a story that was not Gee/Dave. Ahem.

Whatever my intentions, enjoy (or don't enjoy, I'm not being picky here) this kinda sweet Christmas one-shot that surprisingly doesn't feature any mistletoe.

This story is AU, and Gee and Dave are around 16.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Confessions of Georgia Nicolson or any of the characters, Louise Rennison does.

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The lights are warm, a softly luminous topaz colour, there is tinsel messily strung in rivets of red, green and gold and food is heaped high on silver platters.

Rosie's annual Christmas party is as beautiful and successful as always. But like every other year, all Georgia finds herself wanting to do is go home and curl up under the covers of her bed, not having worry about someone spiking her drink or spilling gravy on her dress.

Her dress, for this particular occasion, had costed a whole paycheck's worth; the rich, expensive silk garment decorated tastefully in a pale gold-leaf design. Georgia is beginning to regret her decision to wear it tonight, not because of how she stands out as being far too formally dressed compared to the rest of her friends (Mabs was wearing a skin-tight metallic silver dress so short you could practically see her knickers), but because although Rosie is as careful as always with the alcohol limit (no hard spirits allowed), there are still people tipsy and sloshed as there always are at any big party. The possibility that someone will smuggle in a flask of vodka or the sort is inevitable (Georgia suspects Rollo). Really, a dress this expensive should see better days.

Georgia spends most of her night chewing on titbits of the large spread of food available, everything from turkey to pudding to peppermint humbugs. She also spends it hastily pulling the ruffled hem of her dress away from anyone who might spill a drink or puke on it.

It is safe to say that this particular Christmas will not be one of Georgia's favourites. There is nothing about this night that will be memorable for years to come.

Deciding that she is tired of the rowdy atmosphere and that it is late enough to head home without seeming too impolite, Georgia begins making her way to the "coat room" (Rosie's study with a single clothes rail in it) to fetch her coat and bag.

She breathes a sigh of relief as she exits the basement where the party is being held, the absence of loud music and even louder conversations a blessing to her ears.

Pushing open the door of the study, she groans in annoyance seeing the fifty or so coats thrown haphazardly onto the floor, on the clothes rail, even on Rosie's bookcase. It will take forever to find hers amongst the forty-nine other similar-looking black coats. If only she'd kept it with her instead of giving it to Rosie's "doorman" (Sven) to put away.

She is about to try and pick her way through the fabric-ridden floor when she is startled by a familiar voice.

"Hey, Georgia." Dave emerges from underneath a particularly large pile of jumpers, his hair comically ruffled and sporting a rather loud green t-shirt with a reindeer on it. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he grins at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Looking for my coat," she says distractedly, nudging at the pile of winter jackets, sweaters and wrap-arounds on the ground, "I'm going home." Suddenly curious, she takes a second, longer look at him.

"Why are you in here all by yourself? Shouldn't you be in the basement getting drunk on Rollo's secret supply of vodka or something?"

Dave laughs easily. Plopping himself down on the ground, he pulls the cushion from Rosie's armchair and makes himself comfortable before looking up at Georgia sheepishly."Yeah, about that... I kind of already did. That's why I hid in here, to try and sleep it off." He shrugs nonchalantly.

"I think it worked. I feel reasonably sober now."

Nodding, Georgia returns to her hopeless search, watching him from the corner of her eye as her fingers pick up and discard coat after coat, turning the room into an even bigger mess than it was before.

Truth be told, she's always had a bit of a crush on Dave. Maybe it is his sense of humour, or easy-going personality – or maybe it is just those inordinately pretty green eyes of his, but Georgia has more often than not found herself blushing furiously around him, twirling her hair or blinking shyly in his direction.

Even now, just being in the same room as him, feeling his presence only a few metres away from her, she can feel her heart beating slightly faster than usual.

Georgia moves closer to Dave until she is only a few feet away, sifting through the seemingly never-ending array of coats thrown in a heap on Rosie's desk.

"Need some help?" Dave's voice makes her jump. She hadn't realised that he'd gotten so close to her, the soft tread of his feet masked by the thick-carpeted floor. Turning her head, she finds herself almost nose-to-nose with the (no longer bleary-eyed and instead wide-awake) boy, her gaze instantly drawn to his alluringly beautiful eyes.

"Uhm." Georgia swallows nervously and goes to take a step back, but she finds that his hands have grabbed onto her arms in a firm but gentle grip.

Her heart is racing furiously as she sees him tilt his head slightly, angling his lips towards hers.

"Dave, what are you doing?" her voice comes out breathless and slightly shaky.

Dave on the other hand, seems nothing but amused. And maybe a little nervous.

"Mistletoe." He points to a spot above their heads, not taking his eyes off hers.

She looks up. There is no mistletoe there.

"Dave, there's no mistletoe."

He grins.

"Yes there is. Look again."

She knows that there can't be any mistletoe there, unless it has somehow magically appeared within the last few seconds of him speaking to her. But Dave is grinning expectantly so she rolls her eyes at him, humouring him.

She glances up once more. There is still no mistletoe.

But as she tilts her head up to look at the ceiling, Dave leans down quickly, pressing his warm, slightly chapped lips against hers.

It is brief, the kiss, because Georgia is surprised and pulls away out of instinct, but she doesn't remove Dave's hands from her arms. She instead stares at him wide-eyed, until he blinks and pulls his hands away.

Leaning forward to kiss her softly on the cheek, he smiles before picking a coat from the very far corner of the room and tossing it to her. She catches it, still stunned.

Dave turns to look at her before he leaves the room, heading back downstairs to the party. He winks and smiles, his green eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Merry Christmas, Georgia."

Maybe this Christmas will be memorable after all.

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**AN: I do have another Gee/Dave Christmas fic (a much better one) to be posted on Christmas Day. It is called _Dearest_, so keep an eye out for that.**

**Much love,**

**RichelleBrinkley xx**


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